


Questions

by frubeto



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Late Night Conversations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-24 14:59:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16177463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frubeto/pseuds/frubeto
Summary: A short late night conversation between Detmer and Owosekun.orMy Personal Headcannons About Detmer's Implants





	Questions

**Author's Note:**

> a dromroll for joann/keyla fic nr 4 please  
> (or 3 actually, because you cant really count my last one, but apparently ao3 does)  
> i tried my best  
> but its so hard  
> we know nothing about them  
> this is made up out of thin air  
> i cant believe its 1k

 

 

“Can I ask a few insensitive questions?”

 

Keyla turned her head to look at her instead of the ceiling.

 

“...Sure.”

 

“Can you feel it?”

 

Right after she said it, Joann realized it wasn’t very specific,  and gestured vaguely to the side of her own face to indicate Keyla’s implants.

 

“Sometimes,” she answered. “When I’m focusing on something else I forget about it, but now that you’ve called attention to it...”

 

“Sorry.”

 

She grinned.

 

“It’s fine. It’s… like a slight tingling now.”

 

Joann was lying to her right, so the left side of her head was facing up, and in the dimmed light of the room she could see Joann eyeing it.

 

“It makes you look very badass, you know that?”

 

“So I’ve been told,” she said, keeping the annoyance out of her voice simply because she knew Joann might have actually meant it. But it was an effort, after having heard that lame excuse of an encouragement way too many times. Especially right after the procedure. Doctors, family, random people pitying her, none of them had anything better to offer than _how badass it would look._

 

“I’m really not, though.”

 

“Whoah. You were at the Battle of the Binary Stars, you survived badly wounded and now you’re running around half-cyborg, still kicking. That’s pretty badass if you ask me.”

 

“That I’m alive is thanks to Starfleet’s capable doctors, nothing to do with me.”

 

She turned back to the ceiling.

 

“I’m still squeamish every time it needs looking at. It’s foreign matter in my body and it’s touching parts nothing should be touching. I find it _disgusting_. Every morning it reminds me-”

 

Shaking her head, she broke off.

 

“Hey,” Joann said and slid an arm across her middle. “All that may be true. And yet you’re not letting it get you down, _that’s_ impressive. You’re up there on the bridge every day, doing your job like this isn’t even an inconvenience to you.”

 

“I don’t have much choice in the matter, do I?”

 

It came out more resigned than snappish, but she still felt the need to add,

 

“I’d take being _fun little scientist Keyla_ over _badass pilot of a warship Lieutenant Detmer_ any day. But there’s not much room for that here.”

 

Joann nodded.

 

“I get that.”

 

 

Then the room fell quiet again for a few minutes, and Joann slowly closed her eyes, wrapped around Keyla, who was still staring at the ceiling. 

 

 

“Did you know it could malfunction at every moment?”

 

That made Joann’s eyes fly open again.

 

“It’s still experimental tech,” Keyla explained. “The doctors are mostly trained to deal with it, of course, but if I need replacements that can’t be replicated we’ll have as much luck as Stamets with engineering.”

 

Only a few days ago, an attack had left them with severe damage, and Stamets had insisted they needed to alter course to pick up some parts from the nearest Starbase, but Lorca had refused. In the end, engineering had managed it on their own, but she didn’t want to think about  _how_ .

 

“And I’m not even essential to the ship,” she added, already hearing the scandalized “What?!” in her mind before it actually came.

 

“You know what I mean. We’re at war, Joann.

 

“Every day I go up there and do my job,” she echoed the words from earlier, “wondering if this is the day that it finally gives out on me.”

 

“What happens to you if it does?”

 

“I don’t know.” 

 

That was a lie. She did know. Even if she wished she didn’t. 

 

“But it’s not going to be pretty.”

 

Joann stayed silent to that, and when Keyla looked over at her she couldn’t read her expression, so she turned to lay on her side, facing her.

 

“I’m sorry. I’m being over-dramatic.”

 

It was late, and they shouldn’t be having this conversation. The war hadn’t been friendly to anyone.

 

“No. No, it’s...” Joann started, then shook her head. “Alright, what do I do?”

 

“What?”

 

When she continued, she was more composed, full force I-will-be-prepared-for-every-eventuality-Owosekun.

 

“I’m right there next to you on the bridge, and most of the rest of the day. If anything happens, I’ll be the first at the scene. In a worst-case-scenario, I wanna know how to help you.”

 

It was well-meant, and usually Keyla liked this way about her, but she really didn’t want to go into detail right now.

 

“Why don’t you ask Doctor Culber?” she suggested instead. “I’ll tell him I want you to know and he’ll gladly teach some cyborg first aid.”

 

“Okay.” 

 

Joann smiled, and they both new she’d be down in sickbay as soon as she had the chance. The idea was surprisingly calming.

 

“Thank you,” Keyla whispered, then leaned in to kiss her, and Joann pulled her even closer.

 

When they broke apart, there was a glint in her eyes.

 

“Does it give you super powers? Night vision? Infrared?”

 

“Rapid target acquisition?” Keyla supplied, and they both huffed a laugh.

 

“Does it?”

  
“No,” she said. “It’s trying to recreate the human eye as closely as possible. If anything, it’s worse. It takes longer to focus in changing light conditions, and the color is always a little bit off on that side. Culber says I’m imagining it, but… it’s really annoying.”

 

Joann hm-ed softly, filing the information away, and then went on to the next question.

 

“Can you cry with that eye?”

 

“No.”

 

“Isn’t that weird?”

 

“Yes.”

 

She wondered if she had ever seen her cry, even of laughter, but came up blank. Maybe that one time in the mess hall when Tilly had told the story of her xenobiology professor? She wasn’t sure. And as she thought about it, she remembered another question that had been on her mind for a while.

 

“Is it okay if I touch it?”

 

In her arms, Keyla tensed, and she hurried to rephrase.

 

“No, I mean- Not as in _right now._ ”

 

The expression on Keyla’s face turned to confusion.

 

“But like, accidentally? Or should I be careful to avoid it?”

 

_Oh_. As Keyla understood what she meant she mentally replayed their interactions, and realized,

 

“You’ve been keeping away from it.”

 

“I didn’t know if it bothered you.”

 

“It doesn’t.”

 

At least it was better than having Joann shy away from it.

 

“Just… maybe don’t go and develop an obsession with it?”

 

“I’ll try.”

 

Keyla smiled, and so Joann pressed a soft kiss to her nose and – in the movement – caught sight of the chronometer.

 

“Shit,” she muttered, and heard Keyla chuckle next to her as she commanded,

 

“Computer, lights to 5 percent.”

 

 


End file.
